of sweat.

“It’s getting worse, ” said Wyrdrune. “It’s got to stop.”

“It’s because we’re close now, ” Modred said.

“Can’t we do something?”

“We are doing something, ” Modred replied. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? Jesus, you had to hit him three times

to snap him out of it! Why the hell aren’t the runestones doing

anything?”

“Because they probably don’t choose to.”

“Why?”

“They have a life force of their own. They will do what needs to

be done, when it needs to be done. And not before.”

“Blimey, I need a drink, ” said Billy.

“For a change, I won’t object, ” said Merlin. “I need one, too.”

They went back out into the living room. Billy and Kira went

over to the bar. Modred went back to the coffee table and

reassembled his pistol. He inserted the magazine and racked the

slide, chambering a round. Then he put on the safety, leaving the

pistol “cocked and locked, ” and put it back in its shoulder holster.

“This can’t go on, ” said Wyrdrane. “We’ve got to do something.

She’s getting stronger.”

“I already told you, ” Modred said, “we are doing something. You

must be patient.”

“Patient! Christ, people are dying!”

Modred glanced up at him. “People always die. And many more

will die before we’ve seen an end of this. You might as well accept

that.”

“I can’t.”

“You have no choice.”

Modred went over to the window and looked out at the Ginza.

“She’s close, ” he said. “Very close.”

She was waiting for him when he got back to the sanctuary.